Tom Conway stood at the bar in the French Quarter Salon and contemplated the changes ten years had made in his life. What would he have done that afternoon in 1952 when he walked into the city room of the Dispatch if he could see what lay ahead of him?
DispatchThe city room was on the ground floor of the old Globe Building on Park Row. It was a huge room with desks scattered around in organized confusion. Scraps of paper, crumbled newspapers that had been clipped, then tossed at oversized wastebaskets and had missed their mark, lay on the floor where they fell.
Tom Conway picked his way through the welter of desks to the unpainted one that had been his base of operations since he returned to civilian life after five exciting years as managing editor of an overseas newspaper. He flipped t
